


New Growth

by spontaneite



Category: Assassination Classroom
Genre: Feel-good, Gen, Resurrection, Reunions, cultivation, tentacle cultivation
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-23
Updated: 2018-06-23
Packaged: 2019-05-27 12:40:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,305
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15024818
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spontaneite/pseuds/spontaneite
Summary: Seven years after they graduate, they begin to find tentacles growing on the mountain.





	New Growth

It was on one of Kurahashi Hinano’s nature tours that the first one was found.

Hinano had certain routes through the mountain that had proven best for the kids, and she rarely deviated from them. Most of the terrain was rough and challenging, and while that was good for Okano’s gymnasts, it wasn’t so good for the tiny children she led on their own little adventures. So, really, it was understandable that it took so long for them to find anything.

One of the kids, a cute little girl called Haruka, got separated from the group. Hinano was very vigilant for that sort of thing, so she noticed quickly, arranging the rest of the kids into a massed group watched over by her fellow college volunteer. Then, she retraced her steps and went looking.

 While they didn’t spend so much time wandering the wilds of their mountain any more, Hinano was still a member of class 3-E. There might be unfamiliar toadstools and shrubs, now, but she _knew_ the mountain, and she knew her routes. It didn’t take long at all to see signs of a child’s wanderings in the snapped stems of last year’s greenery and the trampled grass, and she found the girl within ten minutes.

Little Haruka hadn’t gone far from the path at all, but upon discovering herself alone, had evidently become so distraught that she didn’t try to return to it. The wailing made it very easy to track her her even without the signs in the undergrowth, and Hinano set upon her with all the cheer she could manage.

“Ah, Haruka-chan, I’m glad to find you.” She said, brightly, bending down and wiping away the girl’s tears as she clutched desperately at her sleeves. “Are you alright?”

Haruka hiccupped, her eyes huge and all puffy from tears. She seemed largely unharmed, though. “Hinano-oneechan!” She cried, miserably, adorable little cherub cheeks reddened from her tiny person’s ordeal. “I – got – looost!” Each word emerged in the midst of little bubbling sobs, and Hinano rubbed her back, inwardly amused at the ability of small children to get lost less than fifteen metres from a path.

“You know, Haruka-chan, I don’t think you did.” She said, thoughtfully, raising the little girl’s chin as she finally found a tissue to wipe the tears properly. “I think you had your very own adventure!”

The little hiccupy sobs lessened into sniffling. Haruka sat obediently to have her face dried. “…Adventure?” She repeated, plaintively, and rubbed at her eyes.

“That’s right!” Hinano cooed, putting the tissue away and reaching forward to rearrange her charge’s hair. “The call of nature was too great, and you had to become a great adventurer on your own!” She tickled the girl a little, teasingly, and elicited a startled giggle. “But…make sure to bring your friends next time you go adventuring, ne? You need to make sure you know how to get back when the adventure ends!”

Haruka nodded, blinking endearingly. “I got lost,” She said again, this time more solemn than distraught.

“Maybe a little.” Hinano conceded. “But I’m sure it was a great adventure before that! Did you have fun?” She rose, helping the girl to her feet.

The girl in question brightened at the question, and she nodded. “I found a weird mushroom!” She said, proudly. “It’s _yellow._ ”

Hinano blinked, images of all the potentially deadly yellow fungus of Japan prodding insistently at her mind. “I hope you didn’t touch it, Haruka-chan. Do you remember what I said about mushrooms?”

Big eyes looked up at her. “They’re _ninjas._ ” The little girl proclaimed, wisely.

“That’s right!” She ruffled the girl’s hair, provoking a sort of reluctant giggle. “They look all weird and delicious but then they turn out to be poisonous, and they assassinate you!” She mimed a shocked gasp.

“I didn’t touch it, oneechan.” Haruka informed her imperiously. “I don’t trust ninjas.” There was a pause, then she added, quietly, “I poked it with a stick though.” She pointed. “It’s there.”

Hinano obligingly looked in the indicated direction, and did indeed find a yellow growth there, a sort of tall and tapered thing that she’d never seen before. She blinked, and shuffled in its direction, picking up a long stick that she suspected had been used for the purpose before, and nudged lightly at the thing.

It was maybe three inches long, or a little shorter. It poked up from a patch of mosses and tilted weirdly to the side, its yellow cap unusually pointed and smooth. When she prodded at its base, gently, she couldn’t see any sign of its foot. Was it under the moss? She nudged the moss as carefully as she could, and saw that the apparent cap went quite deep. Was it even a fungus in the first place?

Carefully, Hinano retrieved her phone and took a picture of the thing. “You know, Haruka-chan, I think you might have found something really special.” She said, rising. “I don’t think I’ve seen one of those before. I’ll have to look it up later to find out what it is.”

Haruka’s face brightened with delight. “ _Really?_ ” She squeaked, latching onto Hinano’s free hand. “I really found something good?”

“You really did.” She assured, smiling. “Why don’t we go back to the others, and you can tell them all about it?”

As she led the excited little girl back to the path and up towards the group, Hinano committed the location of the mystery growth to memory. She was a nature enthusiast, after all, and she would hardly let something so interesting go without investigation.

\---

When Hinano managed to return, three days later, it was with a sample kit and a fervent wish for the thing to still be there. No amount of research had found a native species of fungus, root, shrub, or invertebrate that looked like it had, and she had become unbearably curious. Was it a foreign, invading species? _Was it an undiscovered species?_ She could hardly contain her excitement at the idea of finding something new on their own mountain!

To her delight, the yellow growth was still there where they’d left it, none the worse for having been disturbed, and she set delicately to work. She stared at it through a magnifying glass, finding it to be remarkably even-textured and not very porous. The yellow was garishly intense, indicating that it was probably poisonous, so of course she had come wearing gloves and a mask. The fact that it was growing in a shaded, mossy area supported it being a fungus of some sort, as many fungi enjoyed such conditions.

She wanted to dig around it and find out how deep it went, but she was worried about potentially disturbing its footing in the moss. Instead, she reached forward with her sterile scalpel to try to cut a tiny section from its protuberance, near the base.

Unexpectedly, the whole thing wriggled like an unearthed worm, and Hinano shrieked with surprise, drawing back sharply. She watched with astonishment as, very quickly, the movement grew sluggish, and the yellow thing drooped sideways to the moss.

It…actually, it sort of reminded her of Korosensei’s tentacles, with that wriggling and the colour. Hinano was surprised enough that the nostalgia didn’t dig very deeply, and she returned to the task with renewed interest.

Was it an animal, then? Some sort of invertebrate? She’d brought a sample jar for that eventuality, but she’d really thought it was a fungus. At any rate, an invertebrate was a bit less delicate a thing to separate from its environment than a potentially sensitive fungus, so she might actually be able to collect it.

Carefully, Hinano lifted the layer of moss to try to see how deeply the creature was rooted. It might be some sort of maggot or caterpillar, with that sort of thickness, but it could also be some sort of gigantic worm.

However, at the merest hint of lift to the surrounding moss, the yellow thing came loose. Its smooth underside was rounded and a bit dirty, and had apparently not extended very far into the moss or earth at all. Baffled, Hinano poked it with the tip of the scalpel again, and it offered a weak squirm.

Well, that wouldn’t do. Hinano took her largest sample jar, then cut loose a patch of moss and soil underneath the thing, putting it all into the jar with as much care as she could manage.

\---

Hinano was determined to cultivate the thing.

Trying to cut a sample out of it had disturbed it enough that she didn’t risk it again. Instead, she kept the temperature in her college dorm as like to the forest as she could manage, situating the mystery life form in a tank reassigned from a failed attempt at a different cultivation.

Inspection of the area she’d sourced it from didn’t seem to reveal any roots or burrows, so she had to assume it had gained sufficient nutrition from the moss and surrounding environment. She still wasn’t sure if it was an animal or an exotic moving fungus, so she simply watched it and fretted for several days, hoping it would stand up again in time. It remained flopped over, however, and so eventually she gave its end a tentative spray with a plant food that, while marketed at orchids, worked really well on loads of plants and fungi.

The next morning it was standing up again, so she counted it as a success, spraying it again.

Mere days later, it had visibly grown, and so she was tentatively deeming it a plant or fungus type thing. She took a picture of it and submitted it to the class 3-E group chat on Facebook, which they’d all been harangued into joining eventually.

_‘Found this weird thing on our mountain last week!’_ She typed, inserting emojis liberally. _‘I think it’s a fungus, but it’s capable of movement when it feels threatened. It might be an undiscovered species!’_

After all, the whole class deserved to know about such an exciting possibility!

Replies trickled in over the course of the day. Most of the class were politely interested, wishing her luck, and so on. Okuda offered to have a sample sent off to be sequenced, but Hinano was wary of wearing the thing out again – its movement capability evidently required a lot of energy. Moving plants like the Venus fly-trap would do very poorly if their traps were continually triggered with no prey to make up for it, which accounted for a lot of deaths of amateur-kept plants. She assumed the Mystery Thing was the same way.

The most interesting reply, though, ended up being from Okano.

_‘Oh, those things?’_ She sent, after she finally checked the chat. _‘I’ve seen a few of them around during practice. I thought they were just weird mushrooms.’_

Hinano stared at her phone silently for several moments, then sprang into action.

\---

In retrospect, it made sense that there would be more of the things. If there was one, there would likely be many others to be found. It also made sense that Okano, who roamed the mountain’s wilds more than the rest of them did these days, would have seen them.

“I don’t exactly memorise their location, Hinano-chan.” Okano sighed, as she led them in another area she vaguely remembered there maybe being one of the things. “We’ve found five already. Is it really important to find more?”

“Of course it is!” Hinano declared, strongly. “I’ve already found out so many interesting things from the others! You have to have a decent sample size, you know!”

Her old classmate smiled, fondly exasperated. “If you insist.”

In the end, they found a sixth before Okano begged off to do some work. This one was the second smallest they’d discovered, measuring at three and a half centimetres, approximately. It was growing in a patch of grass, its foot in bare soil. The smallest had been in soil, too – the bigger ones had all been on moss. Interestingly enough, the one she had in her tank was already the largest of them all.

“Are there not enough nutrients in their environment?” Hinano wondered later, as she gave her specimen its daily spray. It had put on nearly two centimetres already, by her measurements, so clearly it could grow quickly in the right circumstances. “But then, why is the mountain the only place they’ve been found?” She mused, and didn’t have an answer for that.

She spent her spare time between studies and her nature tours looking for more of the things, marking each one meticulously on her map. Ritsu faithfully kept track of all her measurements for her, and Okano had made a habit of reporting any she saw as well. They’d found thirty-four by the end of two weeks, and Hinano considered that enough to bring a few more home. She kept them in separate tanks, just in case, and carefully measured their rate of growth when provided with what seemed like better nutrition. Her original sample was fifty percent larger now than it had been when she found it, and was starting to look really weirdly tentacular.

Hinano couldn’t help but stare at it sometimes, on her desk, and dream up wild thoughts of Korosensei and bizarre superbeing biology. Those were only dreams, though, so she did her best to push them aside and think of _science!_ instead.

That conviction didn’t last very long.

\---

Upon discovery of the fiftieth sample, Hinano declared them numerous enough to justify the sacrifice of one for sampling purposes.

She followed the map to find the smallest one, which had been growing unusually far out in the open with only some dry and scratchy grasses as shelter. It was a pitiful nub of a thing, and it wobbled pathetically as she poked it with her scalpel. As with her first sample, it lost energy quickly, going slack and still after very little movement. She tried to cut into it again, but bizarrely enough, found her incision closing up as the blade moved on.

She stared, and cut again. The damage closed in seconds.

Regeneration?

Hinano eyed the yellow nub-thing uncertainly for a good few minutes. Then, aloud, she declared herself a fanciful dreamer for the direction of her thoughts, and then returned to the task at hand. She asked Ritsu to record her observations, and cut again.

The damage healed more and more slowly with every incision. When it finally stopped, and she could cut a piece off, the whole damn thing abruptly melted into yellow sludge. _Very familiar_ yellow sludge.

_“Specimen has suddenly melted into a viscous fluid.”_ Ritsu stated, matter-of-fact, both her words and Hinano’s being committed to the video file. Hinano was a little too occupied with her fanciful ideas to make proper observations, though.

“…Mmhm.” She nodded, slowly. “…You know what, Ritsu-chan? I have a crazy idea, and I think there’s enough of these things for me to test it. A super-cheap test. The best kind of test.”

_“Oh?”_

“I won’t say anything until I’ve done it, though. It’s really crazy, and kind of embarrassing if I’m wrong.” Hinano elaborated, pushing some of the thick yellow goo into a test tube and sealing it off. “I’ll need to go home first…”

\---

Hinano only spent long enough at home to refrigerate the tube of goo, and retrieve an old memento from her wardrobe. Then she headed back out to the mountain, following Ritsu’s map to one of the other small samples.

_“Are you going to carry out your test, now?”_ Ritsu inquired, and Hinano switched the phone to her other hand, keeping the Mysterious Yellow Thing in clear view of the camera.

“Yep.” Hinano nodded, and removed the anti-Sensei knife from its cutely decorated sheath. She reached out, tentatively, and poked the yellow thing with its curved tip.

At the merest touch, it exploded into goo. _Violently._

Hinano stared faintly at the yellow sludge on her knife and hand, and swallowed.

\---

It was kind of too big a discovery for just some message on the group chat. Hinano made Ritsu hack everyone’s phones, commandeering their attention until everyone had seen the video of the little yellow nub and the knife, and the picture of the much larger yellow thing in Hinano’s tank. Then she started a new message board, ruthlessly protected by Ritsu’s terrifying cyber-warfare capabilities, titled _TENTACLES ON THE MOUNTAIN._

It took barely any time for shocked, vivacious responses to flood in. Enough so, actually, that before long it had all become a really chaotic group call, several of them not satisfied with mere text.

_“Is Korosensei alive?!”_   Kaede demanded, her voice shrill with excitement over the line. _“Is that what this is?”_

_“He probably just left some sort of tentacular cells behind that are growing.”_ Kirara was less optimistic. _“It’s not like they’re talking._ ”

_“Hinano-chan said they’re really weak, though._ ” Okuda pointed out, softly. _“They might communicate if they were stronger._ ”

_“WHAT’S THIS ABOUT THE CRAZY OCTOPUS BEING ALIVE?”_ Terasaka demanded at considerable volume as he entered the conference, late enough to have missed much of the early squabbling.

Itona was next to offer an opinion, paying no heed to his friend’s loud question. _“They might just be like the implanted tentacles, growing in a strange place.”_

_“Even implanted tentacles are sort of intelligent though, Itona-kun.”_ Kaede pointed out, more calmly, from the informed position of one of two tentacle experts among them.

_“Not like people are.”_

“Well, whatever they are, I’m going to find them and grow them.” Hinano declared, putting a momentary hush into the chat. “Maybe if they get big and strong enough, something will happen.”

_“I’d be happy to help.”_ Okuda said, with Takebayashi swiftly agreeing. _“But we should be careful. It’s possible that if they grow big enough they could just be mindlessly aggressive.”_

_“You saw the video. Anti-sensei weapons obviously work on them. We all just need to dig up our knives and guns.”_ Isogai spoke firmly, with the clear expectation that everyone had kept their weapons. He was, of course, correct; they were precious memories, after all.

_“Hinano-chan.”_ It was Nagisa’s voice, for the first time since he’d joined the call. They’d all been equals in their classroom, but for obvious reasons, everyone quieted to let him speak. _“I’ll come to help when I can. I think I can do most weekends.”_

_“Me too!”_ Okano hastened to add. _“Some weekday evenings too, maybe.”_

_“I have a lot of time between shoots, I’ll definitely help.”_ Kaede put in.

It really wasn’t any surprise, but in no time at all, everyone still in the country had pledged some time to the project.

After some ambient chatter, Isogai organised the call, decreeing that details could easily be worked out over ordinary chat, though for security’s sake they’d best keep to Ritsu’s secure chatroom. Hinano terminated the call with the rest of them, and looked over at the tentacle growing stronger in its tank. She smiled.

It would be good to work on something as a class again.

\---

For the first time since they’d graduated, all of 3-E pulled together for a significant project. Not everyone could make the classroom maintenance days, and this was by no means any different – but everyone was working on the same thing, contributing what they could. Everyone helped.

In short order, Hinano found herself in the somewhat bemusing position of project manager, though she handled very little of the organisational details. It was more like she said what they needed to do, and then Isogai and Kataoka fell back into their roles as beautifully natural facilitators. So when Hinano declared it necessary to map the location of every tentacle on the mountain, that was precisely what happened. Group calendars were compiled, advertising availability, and their class representatives coordinated flawlessly with Ritsu to assign them where they were needed. In the space of days, a systematic grid-based search pattern was occurring every evening on the mountain, with Ritsu’s little map-app noting the locations of more and more tentacular growth.

It became plain that there were _many_ of the things, and several were extremely small, no larger than a pea. It was actually quite difficult to verify those ones, because generally you could only ascertain its tentacular nature once you’d poked it with an anti-sensei knife and destroyed it, which wasn’t ideal. As such, on the map, a separate category was made for the especially tiny ones, with helpful filter options made for sorting the larger ones from the smaller.

Once they’d classified over a hundred and twenty definite and potential specimens within a single week, Hinano cast an analytic eye towards her little tanks, and declared to the group her need for more cultivation space.

_“Can you use the classroom for it?”_ Isogai inquired over the chat, Kataoka holding a tablet at the ready nearby.

Hinano pondered the question. “I don’t think the tentacles really need much light, so probably.” She said, eventually. “But I don’t know if it will work long-term. I want to grow lots of them, after all, and…well.” She hesitated.

_“As the others said, we can’t guarantee they’ll be safe once they’re bigger.”_ Kataoka said, flicking her fingers across the touch screen. _“Ideally, we’d want an environment with anti-sensei measures installed, just in case of trouble.”_

_“We could move Ritsu’s old fixed artillery body in, as a stopgap measure.”_ Isogai suggested, looking towards the Ritsu avatar in the corner of their respective screens. _“What do you think?”_

Ritsu considered it. _“I’m not sure about that. My fixed artillery body is strictly regulated. I’ve been allowed to reside in it, but it is a powerful weapon, so if it’s moved it will be noticed.”_

“I think we should probably keep this quiet for now.” Hinano sighed, thinking wistfully of Karasuma. “Even the good people in the government might get all nervous about this.”

_“Undoubtedly.”_ Kataoka agreed. _“Hm, well then. I think for now, we should take measures to line your tanks with pieces of anti-sensei bullets, while they’re in the classroom. In the long run, though…maybe it would be best to make a greenhouse. Then we could ensure it’s built with security in mind.”_

Hinano brightened immediately. _“_ A greenhouse!” She repeated, entirely enthused at the idea. “Oh, that’s a lovely idea! Next to the storage building, do you think? How big a greenhouse?”

Both of them smiled at her, familiar affection in the lines of their face. _“That would probably be a good place, yes.”_ Isogai said. _“As for the size…hm. We have a surplus of wood, but getting glass might be a problem.”_

_“Don’t forget that some of us have the facility to fund this,”_ Kataoka reminded him. _“Kaede is doing very well for herself, and so is Itona. We have income to work with, and I’m sure everyone will chip in a little.”_

_“True. Ritsu, could you record a message for the class for me?”_

_“Of course. Recording in 3, 2, 1-”_

Isogai straightened his shoulders a little, and spoke. “ _Hi everyone. Our next course of action on the project is going to be construction of a greenhouse. I’d like to ask for donations from everyone who can manage it, so that we can buy important supplies. We’ll also be wanting to include anti-sensei measures in the construction to make sure it’s secure in case of problems. Anyone who has ideas there, please get in touch. Thanks.”_ He stopped speaking, and made a scissoring motion with his hand.

_“Recorded and sent!”_ Ritsu chirped.

_“Thanks, Ritsu.”_ Isogai nodded. _“Hinano-chan, could you get me a list of supplies you think we’ll need? And maybe some basic specifications for what we need in the greenhouse?”_

“It’ll have to be preliminary.” She warned him. “I’ve not had much chance to do experiments yet, after all.”

_“That’s fine._ ”

Hinano thought for several moments. “I don’t know yet how the tentacles interact with each other, so until that changes, the greenhouse design should allow for separated growing areas. We could maybe use stakes to make the tentacles grow vertically…I’ll have to test it.” She shook her head. “Anyway, I’ll try some things and get back to you. And, um, I won’t have a donation to give because I need to buy some more tanks for testing.” She had more than enough tentacle specimens to work with now, after all, and _so many things to test._

_“If you’re doing tests, maybe coordinate with our scientists.”_ Kataoka suggested. _“And if you need any tech support, there’s Itona-kun.”_

“I could use some cameras and instruments to record changes in the specimens.” Hinano mused. “Well, anyway, I’ve got some things to do. I’ll keep you guys posted, okay?”

_“Of course._ ” Isogai’s voice was warm, and Kataoka was smiling. Affection warmed her chest in a quick starburst, and she beamed back at them.

“Talk later!” She chirped, and closed the call.

\---

There was _so much to do._

As her classmates began mobilising in their first construction project in over seven years, Hinano moved supplies into their old home economics classroom and got to work. Her first two tanks, containing one specimen each, were set a safe distance from each other on one of the worktops. They were joined by a number of different cheap tanks she’d managed to obtain on sale from a fish shop, including several fish bowls. She labelled them according to the planned tests and then set out with Okano to collect specimens.

“I need ten of the tiny maybe-tentacles.” Hinano listed, when asked, as Ritsu guided her to the first item on the list. “And, for the moment, four of the three-centimetre sized ones.” She handed over the glass specimen tubes with strict instructions on how to handle the tentacles, and then they separated, guided along efficient paths by the AI residing on all of their devices.

It didn’t take more than an hour to collect their specimens, and by the time they returned, Itona had finished rigging the rudimentary network of cameras around her tanks, connecting them up to a small laptop which, of course, had Ritsu on it. Hinano settled all of the specimens onto the designated observation counter, and got to work.

Okuda and Takebayashi had taken her stumbling, rambling ideas and organised them into a neat experimental itinerary. Both of them were busy for the moment, but this was going to be recorded, so she’d be able to get their opinions on everything later. Hinano carefully set out the tiny pea-sized yellow things, each in their separate test tube, and prepared the counter. Later, the scientists would be smuggling a sample into their labs to have a look at, but there was plenty that could be done here.

“Ritsu-chan, are you recording?”

_“I am._ ”

“Well then. Please watch closely. I’m going to try to make sure that these are tentacle-bits, to begin with.” She carefully lifted one test tube from the rack, and tipped its contents gently onto the specimen board. It rolled a little, and then came to a stop with an odd shiver. Efficiently, Hinano reached out and poked it with a needle. She thought it might have moved, but it was a little too small to be sure. “Ritsu?”

_“Specimen 2-1, measuring approximately 8mm in diameter, has demonstrated slight movement upon stimulation.”_

“Thank you.” She picked it up with her tweezers and put it back, and began the painstaking process of verifying every one of the specimens.

Later, she stabbed one of the little ones with a scalpel, and it made a sluggish attempt at regeneration. She waited for the hole to slowly close up, but it barely managed even a millimetre of closure before it melted into goo.

_“Category 2 specimens are fragile, incapable of regenerating significant damage.”_

“Testing response to very slight damage.” Hinano said, and held the second specimen in place while she impaled it with a needle. Her eyes weren’t quite as good as the camera, so she had to rely on Ritsu to tell her what occurred.

_“Category 2 specimens are capable of regenerating minor damage, though slowly. Specimen 2-2 is fully regenerated.”_

Hinano stabbed it again. It melted.

_“Category 2 specimens are capable of very minor regeneration, and are to be considered extremely fragile. I will distribute appropriate cautions to the others.”_

“Thanks, Ritsu-chan.” Hinano said, and carefully cleaned away the tentacle goo. “So now we know to be careful with these ones. She tipped the goo into a separate test tube, preparing it for a future of laboratory analysis by Okuda and Takebayashi.

_“Commence testing on interaction of category 2 specimens.”_ Ritsu reminded her.

“Uhuh.” Hinano mumbled, collecting two test tubes from the rack. “We are now testing what, if anything, happens when these specimens are close to each other, or touching.”

She placed the pea-sized orbs of yellow side by side, precisely a centimetre apart. They immediately began quivering, though very slightly. She was quite sure she wasn’t imagining it.

_“When in 1cm proximity of each other, specimens present signs of movement.”_

The one on the left rolled very, very slightly closer to the one on the right.

_“It appears they are attempting to increase proximity.”_ A pause. _“Movement has ceased, potentially due to exhaustion of specimens.”_

“I’ll now allow them to touch.” Hinano stated, with interest, and picked up the one on the left, very gently, with her tweezers, moving it carefully to the other.

The very moment they touched, they squirmed dramatically, little yellow blobs distorting and reaching and then, very suddenly, there was only a single specimen. “They fused!” She said, astonished, and wondered what it might mean for the project.

_“Upon physical interaction, specimens merge together.”_

“I’ll test it with a third specimen.” Hinano said, and extracted another from the tubes, holding it to the now larger blob. It was very quickly subsumed. It was now not quite so tiny, and had begun to extend slightly into a tapered, tentacular shape.

_“Effect appears consistent._ ” Ritsu observed.

“So, they fuse together when they touch…I wonder if we should just fuse every one we find, and see what happens.” She said, frowning. “But then, if it went wrong, we wouldn’t have any backups, so maybe not. We should probably maintain multiple specimens.” She thought for several seconds, and then shook herself out of it. “Well, at any rate…I wonder what happens if you put the larger ones nearby? Will they reach out?”

Hinano retrieved one of the jars holding the three centimetre tentacles, extracting it with care. It squirmed slightly in the tweezers, and went still when she left it on the board. Hinano picked up the smaller, more spherical amalgamation of three small specimens, and moved it closer to the other one.

The larger tentacle immediately wriggled towards it as it grew closer, the length of it moving visibly across the board in order to close the distance. Once the smaller specimen was within reach, it reared up and seamlessly integrated it.

It wriggled at the end, almost cheerfully, and then fell still.

“Unless we want them to fuse, larger specimens should not be allowed to interact.” Hinano said, firmly.

_“Noted.”_

“Right then…now to determine their nutritional requirements.” Hinano declared, taking the test tubes and the larger specimens and carefully distributing them into their tanks.

\---

The experiments were all pleasingly quick and conclusive, a refreshing change for the actual scientists among them. Okuda and Takebayashi nodded approvingly over the data Ritsu had collected on the specimens’ growth under the different conditions, suggesting further tests to complete, and by the end of the week they were briefing the whole class about their findings.

“So, there are two things we’ve found out that are most important, I think.” Hinano claimed, looking over her papers. When she glanced up, the number of faces on the call was _vast_. “First of all, if the tentacles touch, they merge together and become a single larger tentacle. The small ones aren’t capable of much movement, but if the bigger ones are near each other, they’ll actively move towards each other and merge. If you leave two of them at opposite ends of a tank overnight, they’re closer together by the end of it, so they can definitely detect each other somehow.”

_“We’ll need some sort of separation or wall in the greenhouse, then.”_ Chiba mused, as the designated architectural planner of the class.

Kaede blinked from her tiny section of the screen. _“Why not just let them merge?”_

“ _We have no way of being sure that it’s good for them to do it.”_ Takebayashi said, diplomatically. “ _If it turns out that merging is the wrong way to go and we don’t have any other tentacles left, we’ll be in trouble.”_

_“I don’t even get what we’re doing with this.”_ Okajima expressed, to some agreeing murmurs. _“Like, are we just growing a tentacle garden, or a new sensei, or what?”_

Nakamura, who was sadly abroad and therefore unable to offer anything except moral and financial support, opened her mouth to speak. _“Well-“_

_“I-“_ Nagisa began, at the same time, and they both paused. Nakamura gestured invitingly at her camera, and he coughed politely before continuing. _“I, personally, am hoping that we’ll be able to grow something alive and intelligent.”_ He said, straightening as he spoke. _“I’m trying not to get my hopes up, though.”_ He looked slightly wistful. He’d managed to visit the mountain at the weekend, and the expression on his face when he’d seen the tentacles had been a little painful to watch.

“ _Best case scenario, we grow Korosensei.”_ Kataoka claimed, to general approval.

“ _Worst case scenario?”_ Kimura inquired.

_“Worst case scenario, we grow a murderous superbeing that needs to be killed. Which is why we need to be careful about our security measures.”_ Isogai stated, clearly. _“Itona’s group will handle electronic and mechanical countermeasures, like mounted anti-sensei guns, and maybe even light nets, if we can manage to reproduce the right kind of light.”_

_“We’re working on the recipe for a clear anti-sensei plastic we can coat the walls of the greenhouse with, too.”_ Okuda told them. _“We have the data we need, but we’ll probably need to recycle some of the ammunition in the store room to make it.”_

“ _That’s fine.”_ Isogai nodded. _“At any rate, this is useful discussion, but Hinano-chan still has things to report.”_

Hinano giggled, having forgotten about her report herself. “Um, so I’ve mentioned the merging thing.” She said, collecting her thoughts. “I think the other important thing is, um, growing conditions. So, the smallest ones we found were in dry grasses, out in the open. There weren’t any at all in really wet areas, and we have confirmed that if you put the little ones in water, they swell up and, um, if they’re really small, they die.”

_“How many tentacles have you killed?”_ Nagisa asked, sounding somewhat disapproving.

“…A few.” She replied, delicately.

_“What if we needed all of them?”_ Yada asked anxiously, as soon as she answered.

“There’s no way we’d ever get all of them.” Hinano asserted, quite confidently. “These are probably growing from particles of sensei scattered over the mountain, right? Well, a lot of those would have fallen into water and died, so there’s no chance that all of them would grow in the first place.”

_“Aa…that makes sense.”_

“We’re working on seeing if we can cultivate more, anyway.” She said. “Ask Okuda and Takebayashi about it later, if you’re interested. Or me, I know everything they’re doing. Anyway, so…the tentacles seemed to do best in kind of shaded places, but that’s only because they found it easier to get nutrition from the surroundings, I think. We tested a few different ‘foods’, so to speak, to see what made them grow best, and…well. It’s not really very surprising.” She smiled, a little sheepishly. “The tentacles like sugar.”

There was a collective pause.

_“Hehehe,”_ Nakamura expressed, after a while. _“With that octopus’ sweet tooth, yeah, that’s not surprising.”_

_“Oh, so that’s why the one under the cherry tree was so big.”_ Okano realised. The one she was talking about had indeed been the largest found in the wild, being a solid forty centimetres worth of tentacle, and it had probably gotten that way by profiting on the sugar from fallen cherries. It was what had prompted the discovery of sugar as the main growth factor.

“Probably.” Hinano agreed, cheerfully. “We’ve been testing some different types of sugar, since then. It does seem mostly tied to the energy component – the artificial ones with extremely condensed calories seem to be best. If you just sprinkle sugar on, though, the tentacles have trouble absorbing it, so we’ve been making a sort of watery treacle, and the specimens are all growing really well. Um, maybe too well. They’ll be big enough to reach out of the tanks soon.”

_“They grow that quickly?”_ Rinka asked, blinking.

“When they’re small, they grow _very very fast._ Ritsu’s measurements seem to suggest that it slows down as they get bigger, so we’ll see how it goes.” The remaining tiny tentacles, classed as category 2 for how tiny they were, had very abruptly grown their way out of that category overnight.

_“If you’re going to be feeding them with sugar, won’t everything get very mouldy?”_ Okano pointed out.

_“It will.”_ Chiba said. _“We probably won’t be using soil in the greenhouse, if the experiments prove that the tentacles don’t need it. I believe there are currently tests going to see whether cleaning products that inhibit mould growth will damage the tentacles.”_

“That’s right.” Hinano agreed. “At the moment, it doesn’t seem like bleach harms the tentacles, but we’ll want to be sure before spraying everything with it.”

_“Cleaning the greenhouse will be everyone’s duty, provided you live close enough.”_ Isogai decreed. _“We’ll let Ritsu determine an algorithm for the rota based on your time commitments and such when it’s time to think about it, but that’s a while off yet.”_

_“About that…”_ Maehara’s image leaned forwards. _“We’re starting construction soon, right?”_

“Next week!” Hinano confirmed happily.

Isogai nodded. _“Ritsu will be sending everyone your timeslots for helping with the construction. We ought to have it done within two weeks, if we work hard. We’ve sourced materials already, thanks to everyone’s donations.”_ He paused. _“Anything else anyone wants to cover tonight?”_

Hinano sat back, tremendously pleased by life at large, as the call turned into a semi-efficient series of questions and discussions.

\---

Things were really moving very quickly.

A few weeks ago, Hinano had found a weird yellow thing with a lost girl. Now, the whole class was mobilising, putting all of their energy into caring for the strange vestiges of their teacher.

Construction began, and when Hinano wasn’t working on the testing, she did her part. They built the frame of the greenhouse in metal, having managed to gather enough money to justify it, laying a foundation of quarried slate at the floor. By the end of the first week of construction, the whole frame had been completed, with only a few minor soldering accidents to speak of.

Hinano eyed the thing with satisfaction through the classroom window. It was of a reasonable size, with around half the floor space of the main classroom, to allow for the cultivation of many tentacles. Internal design wasn’t set in stone yet, as there was still testing to do. There weren’t enough tentacles of sufficient size to test certain things yet, after all.

She had a good number of eager assistants, though. Those of them who were uncomfortable with construction work or had otherwise been shooed away for being not very good at it worked for her, the designated Chief Tentacle Cultivator.

Hinano sort-of commanded two teams: the wilderness team and the science team. The wilderness team was still mapping the locations of all of the tentacles, and had begun spraying the smallest ones to increase their odds of survival. The science team…well, that varied. Okuda and Takebayashi were covertly misusing lab equipment for their own ends, and had thus far mostly determined what they already knew: the tentacles had the same composition as samples taken from Sensei when he was properly alive, and were vulnerable to the same things. Their most significant finding thus far was that, if you dried out tentacle goo using the right kind of light and then powdered it, you could grow new tentacles.

Outside of the lab, the science team consisted of cultivators, which coincidentally included many of the classmates most delighted about the tentacular developments. Kaede was a frequent helper, given her sporadic work schedule, and Nagisa was almost as frequent despite his far more rigid time commitments.

Hinano wasn’t among the classmates who were carrying a torch for Nagisa, but it still warmed her heart to see his expression every time he entered the home economics classroom. He had a very warm, genuine smile.

“They’re doing so well,” He marvelled, approaching the tank with the first and largest tentacle. It had grown enough that she’d had to mesh it in to keep it from wriggling out of the tank in search of its fellows. At present, it was curling somewhat sulkily under the mesh, poking a few centimetres of tapered yellow end through one of the holes. Nagisa poked that protruding yellow tip, gently, and laughed when it wriggled indignantly away. “The mesh is new. Did this one escape?”

“It escaped and absorbed one of the other biggest ones.” Hinano confirmed, amused. “That’s why it’s bigger today, too. They’re a lot more mobile now that they’re being, um, ‘fed’ regularly.”

“Can it not wriggle through?” He inquired, withdrawing his hand.

“Only if the mesh gaps are big enough – they can change shape a little, but not that much, it seems.”

“That’s interesting. So we’ll be using mesh in the greenhouse?”

“Probably!” Hinano confirmed, inspecting the mini-tentacles she was growing in test tubes for lack of more tanks. They were, as yet, only the size of peas…but that was impressive, considering. “Otherwise they’ll just move and absorb each other.” She beckoned him over to show him, and pointed. “Here, Nagisa-kun – you see these here?”

“Yes?”

“These are the ones we planted two days ago, from the goop-dust that Okuda and Takebayashi made.”

His eyes widened. “Only two days ago?”

“Yep!” She smiled, pleased at his reaction. He was always so unfailingly _delighted_ by all of the tentacular developments. “It seems like cultivating new tentacles isn’t very difficult at all.”

“I wonder why they grew so slowly on the mountain, then.” He pondered.

She shrugged. “Well, if nothing else, we get regular rain and very humid summers. The conditions aren’t great outside for hydrophobic tentacles.”

“I suppose.”

Hinano glanced to the side, retrieving a flask of sugary fluid and a pipette. “At any rate, these ones need feeding again, since they seem dry now. Do you want to do it?”

Nagisa beamed, all wide-eyed and genuine, and he was utterly adorable and she wanted to hug him. _How was he so short?_ “Of course!”

 Hinano restrained her irrepressible delight at all things adorable, since he likely wouldn’t appreciate the sentiment, and passed the supplies over. She had never seen someone so happy at pipetting sugar onto yellow lumps before. Well…except herself. And Kaede, on one or two occasions.

“How much? Five millilitres, again?”

She inspected the size of the lumps, critically. “…I think they’re a bit small for that.” She decided, having developed a fairly good eye for the resilience of tiny tentacle bits over the last couple of weeks. Too much sugar water overwhelmed them the same way that too much water did, after all. “These ones would do better with just a couple of drops, still. Maybe two millilitres, if you can measure that.”

“Alright then.” He accepted, and got to work feeding twenty-four test tubes of tentacle. She watched for the first two, and then returned to her own work, which was seeing how tentacles reacted to being staked.

She performed the initial test by finding one of the ten centimetre tentacles in its fishbowl and planting a stake beside it in the soil. The tentacle investigated it warily for several seconds, and then apparently declared it safe, curling up and around the wooden support. It settled there, seemingly satisfied.

Well then, that seemed like a success.

\---

By the next day, the stake was leaning against the side of the fishbowl, and had been apparently used as a support to aid in an escape attempt. Hinano found the tentacle in question a short distance away on the floor, it having collapsed there in apparent exhaustion. She sighed at it, removing it from the floor and putting it back into its bowl, where it squirmed weakly. She removed the stake and gave the tentacle a spray of sugar, which it seemed to appreciate.

“Ritsu? Did it move the stake to the side on purpose, or was it an accident?” She asked of the AI who had been observing the whole thing. It was a significant question: the former would indicate _tool use,_ which was a very definite sign of intelligence.

_“Currently unclear. The stake appeared to collapse under its weight when it was moving, but I’m not certain whether or not it was intentional.”_ The AI said, from her phone.

“…This bears further testing.” Hinano declared.

\---

Tool-use tests were added to the already vast itinerary, and the greenhouse inched closer to completion. Hinano called Okuda almost every day to consult about the testing plans, obtaining a prototype of the anti-sensei plastic coating five days after they’d started work on it, and set to work trying it out.

It had ended up as a kind of plastic glue which gave off some fairly nasty fumes when liquid, so Hinano had been advised to do the application somewhere well-ventilated. She applied the glue to a piece of mesh and a pane of glass, and left them out to dry. It took about half an hour, during which time Hinano was obliged to remove three flies and one wasp from the slowly curing substance. Once they seemed fully cured – slightly tacky to the touch, perhaps, but certainly dry – she took them indoors to do some testing.

Hinano set the pane of glass on the Observation Counter and, quite efficiently, pulled out a mini-tentacle and put it on the glass. It exploded very promptly.

“It works. Good.” She observed, and gathered the goop into a test tube to be dried and powdered. She’d been told that the glue wasn’t water-soluble, so she felt confident in wiping the remainder off with a wet cloth. That done, she held the glass up to the light, critically.

It wasn’t completely transparent, but it was mostly so. It left the glass looking sort of pleasantly cloudy.

“Ritsu, make a note – I’m going to do several tests at once now.” She said, picking up the mesh and heading to the tank of the third tentacle which had needed mesh put in place.

_“I am, as always, recording.”_ The AI informed her cheerfully.

“This tentacle, the third largest, consistently tries to get through this mesh, like the others do.” She explained, removing the mesh cover. “I’m going to replace the normal mesh with this anti-sensei mesh. If the tentacle’s behaviour is consistent, it will try to reach through. It’ll probably be damaged as a result.” She picked up the anti-sensei mesh. “So, the tests: will the entire tentacle die, or only some of it? If some of it survives, how quickly will it grow to this size again? And, if it survives, will it learn not to touch the mesh?”

She poked the tentacle out of the way, and put the mesh down.

Predictably, it reached back up as soon as it could, grasping for an opening in the mesh. Also predictably, a good quarter of its length exploded into goop as soon as it came in contact. The rest of it reared back in alarm.

Hinano was very pleased. “It survived, and it seems to be avoiding the mesh.” She reported, watching the tentacle. It extended warily upwards, but not so far as before. Eventually, it curled away, its damaged length slumping over in an almost dejected fashion.

That evening, she reported to the group at large that the tentacles, at the very least, were intelligent enough to avoid causing themselves harm.

\---

Two and a half weeks in, construction was wholly complete. The frame was done, the glass was in place, everything had been wired for cameras, and there were weak lasers in place that would fire a net of tentacle-hardening light when required. And, of course, the walls and floors had been thoroughly painted with the anti-sensei plastic glue. As a backup measure, Itona had left a gun-drone in the greenhouse that Ritsu could fly remotely.

“So, what’s the plan now, Tentacle Cultivator-chan?” Karma inquired, having managed a rare visit to see the completed building.

It looked somewhat glorious in the autumn sunlight. The glue had rendered the glass cloudy, with the contents of the greenhouse visible only as muted colours, but it caught the light beautifully. “We’ve mostly decided what we’re doing, though there’s still tests to be done.” Hinano reported, drawing a number of curious glances. She looked across the assembled masses, more than two thirds of the class, and continued. “The tentacles are all very motivated to fuse together, which means that’s probably the way to go. So, we’re going to maintain two tentacles which we’ll be adding other tentacles to, and then just in case we’ll be growing another two without fusing anything. Since they seem to grow more slowly when they’re bigger, the rest of the greenhouse will be used to grow the smaller ones as fusion material.”

Chiba looked through the greenhouse’s open door. There were plans to install a lock with a key-pad, but they’d not got around to it yet. “So, we’ll need some mesh enclosures.”

“Four main mesh enclosures, with plenty of room to grow.” Hinano confirmed. “I’d like to dedicate at least a third of the greenhouse to that. Maybe even a half. It might be nice to get shelves installed on the rest, to get more space.”

Chiba made a thoughtful noise, and then beckoned her in. “Show me where you think the lines for the enclosures should be.”

She observed the greenhouse, and walked in, pensive. Optimistically, she was planning to grow a sensei-sized being. Potentially, even, _two_ sensei-sized beings. She strode to the end and tried to remember how large Sensei had been. It was somewhat tricky – she’d not grown that much, but she _had_ grown. Hm.

She poked her head out of the greenhouse. “Nagisa-kun?” She called, pulling the young man in question from a conversation with Karma. “Can you come estimate something for me?”

He blinked, slightly confused. “…Alright?”

Hinano showed him to the end of the greenhouse. “If you were trying to grow a sensei-sized being, how much space would you leave?”

Nagisa tilted his head, perplexed but evidently willing. He stepped forwards and indicated. “I’d put the mesh maybe this far out, I think.” He decided.

It was about what she’d thought, but it was always good to get a second opinion from someone who hadn’t appreciably grown. “Good, good…” She stared at the greenhouse intently. “Chiba-kun, do you think there’s enough space to put all four enclosures down here with a corridor between them?”

“One on either side, you mean?” He questioned, and she nodded. “Easily. Will we just need mesh?”

Hinano shook her head. “The tentacles can’t get past the anti-sensei mesh, but it’s possible that if the two from adjoining enclosures could touch even slightly, they’d fuse. So…it’s safe to have mesh for the ones separated by a corridor, but there should be a gap or sheet of metal or glass between the ones next to each other.”

“It’ll need to go ceiling high, I suppose.”

“Probably.” She nodded, cheerfully.

“And the rest of the greenhouse?”

Hinano considered the data Ritsu had gathered on the speed of tentacle growth. “Shelves, strong enough to have glass tanks all the way down. Maybe two or three layers of them per wall.” She knew that the greenhouse had been constructed with the idea of future shelving in mind, so it was a perfectly reasonable request.

Chiba was quiet for several minutes as he looked around, and occasionally retrieved a tape measure to, well, measure something. “It’ll take a couple more days, I think.”

“That’s fine – there’s still plenty for me to test.” She smiled brightly, and Chiba went out to coordinate with the construction team.

\---

In the intervening days, Hinano tested the range at which tentacles seemed capable to detecting their brethren, which seemed to increase with their size. The tiny ones showed no reaction when they were only ten centimetres distant, whereas the bigger ones seemed perfectly capable of detecting others from across the room.

A bit of testing demonstrated that the detection didn’t seem sight-based, as putting giant boards in front of the tanks didn’t change the way they wistfully crowded up against the glass closest to a neighbour. The bigger tentacles, however, _did_ seem to be developing a type of sight, or at least light sensitivity. Either that, or an extremely refined sensitivity to air currents, which Korosensei had never demonstrated.

Hinano moved her hand swiftly towards the third-largest tentacle, and it flinched back, giving a nice bit of evidence for her point. “See?” She said, to Takebayashi. “There’s definitely something going on there!”

“It might just be feeling the air move when you move so quickly, you know.” Takebayashi, who did not believe in tentacle vision, denied.

Hinano rolled her eyes, and moved her fingers slowly closer. The tentacle, incidentally the same one which had suffered at the mesh, retreated from her advance. “You can’t tell me that’s air movement.”

“Smell, then.”

“If you’re willing to believe a tentacle can smell things, why can’t you believe it can _see?_ ”

“I’m not denying the possibility.” The man said, in a blatant lie. “I’m only saying there’s no evidence that it’s sight, as opposed to some other sense.” He paused, and added, _very smugly,_ “Further testing is required.”

“Pff.” Hinano rolled her eyes, and went over to see what Okuda was doing.

\---

With the anticipation of a much larger cultivation space in mind, Hinano had begun working overtime to get started growing as many tentacles as she could. After brief discussion with the class, it was ruled safer for the tentacles to grow supervised as opposed to outside, where they could get rained on and potentially die, and where they were also at risk of being found by outsiders. In the wake of this decision, volunteers struck out across the mountain to collect the tiniest, most vulnerable tentacles for focused cultivation.

“We shouldn’t abandon the idea of the artificially grown ones, though.” Okuda said to her, softly, as she helped to set out little yellow nubs into a number of cheap plastic plant pots. “We need to find out how the tentacle dust works. For example, if you freeze the sludge before you powder it, will it still grow? If you freeze the powder and then defrost it, will it still grow? It’s important to know.”

“Yeah, I guess it is.” Hinano agreed, thoughtfully, as she sprayed her legion of baby tentacles with sugar. “After all, if we _can_  freeze the sludge or the dust, then we’ll have a backup for all this in case something goes horribly wrong with the project.”

They were, after all, perfectly aware of one thing that could easily go wrong: the Spear of Heaven was still in orbit. Though it was now in use as an experimental space station, it was still fully capable of firing a gigantic blast of tentacle-destroying light at whatever it pleased. Synthesising something that could block it was among their scientists’ many, many goals, though one less immediate than others.

Finishing with her batch of tiny bits of yellow, Hinano moved over to inspect the four tentacles which were now large enough to need mesh on their tanks. All four had discovered the folly of tangling with the anti-sensei mesh, and had done so independently, which seemed to indicate that they weren’t capable of communicating with each other. Each tentacle had subsequently kept their distance from the mesh roof, but that provided no more evidence for sight – it was perfectly possible that they were simply capable of telling how far they could extend before being injured.

What _was_ interesting was that the first-injured one seemed to, slowly, be testing the defences. Ritsu had observed it probing at every inch of the glass, though keeping conspicuously distant from the glue-coated mesh. The largest tentacle, currently measuring at nearly half a metre, had also been seen making an abortive attempt at smashing the glass, though it had had absolutely no effect.

Hinano was concocting _many_ plans to test the things’ intelligence and resourcefulness, once they were in a safer environment. She really should wait. But, on the other hand…

She suddenly thought of a potentially very easy way to test the tentacles’ ability to see.

Hinano very slowly, very carefully removed the mesh cover on the tank of the least investigative of the four largest ones, and set it aside. She watched, avidly.

The yellow length, previously held in a sullen curl, twitched. Then, very slowly, it reached upwards, hesitating briefly at the previous death-height, and then continued.

“They can so totally see.” Hinano breathed, delighted, as the tentacle’s confidence grew and it draped itself over the side, trying to wriggle over. She reached out to stop it, and it squirmed disagreeably away from her, frantically trying to jump into the the next tank before she could stop it. It did not succeed, and Hinano deposited the displeased yellow thing back in its tank, putting the mesh back in place.

It very clearly did not try to reach up again.

“Hm?” Okuda made an inquiring noise, over from where she was still tending to the ‘seedlings’.

“The tentacles can tell whether or not the mesh is there. It _has_ to be sight. Takebayashi can’t deny that.” She crowed, triumphant.

Okuda smiled indulgently. “I don’t know about that. Takebayashi-kun is quite stubborn. I imagine he’d say they can smell the absence of the mesh.”

“Rubbish.” Hinano asserted, though internally she was fully aware that it was a possibility. What on earth could she try to prove sight versus some other sense? Pictures on a screen, maybe?

\---

Then, finally, the greenhouse was truly done.

With some ceremony, Hinano and her three volunteers conducted the four Chosen Ones into their new homes. The two tentacles to be intentionally fused with others were put in the pens furthest to the back, and were put in there first.

Chiba’s team had rigged an attractive set of mesh enclosures with pleasant wooden frames, each of them occupying perhaps two square metres of space, with a reasonably generous corridor down the middle. He’d devised doors on the corridor side of the enclosures, each with a smaller window which one could reach through to spray at the tentacles in question. The bottoms of the enclosures were relatively boring expanses of MDF, cheap as well as reasonably easy to wipe mould from, and a necessary protection against the anti-sensei foundation of the greenhouse.

Hinano conveyed her specimen to the back right enclosure. It had given up trying to escape from her grip, which was quite firm, and laid limply in her hand as she opened the door to enclosure B and set it down in the middle. She swiftly closed the door up, telling it “You have reached your new home, where you will thrive and prosper!” It didn’t seem as thrilled at her words as she thought it should.

Nagisa, the designated conveyor of the specimen destined for enclosure A, chuckled at her and then settled his own charge gently down on the wooden board. It seemed more on-the-ball than Hinano’s, and wriggled for the open door like a large yellow caterpillar. Nagisa froze for a second before swiftly shutting the door again. Quite promptly, the tentacle stopped its approach, settling in a curl of discontent.

“…It could tell the door was open? Is that normal?” He asked, befuddled.

“Takebayashi will tell you that it can smell the anti-sensei coating.” Hinano informed him, voice heavy with disapproval. “But anyone sensible would realise that they can definitely see things.” She turned, regarding Karma and Kaede. “Aren’t you going to put yours in?” She demanded. “If you wait too long they might get free, and kill themselves on the ground.”

“I thought you’d like the chance to do yours first, you see.” Karma replied, airily, holding his tentacle aloft. “Besides, we all have experience holding these down. It’s not as though I’ll let it escape.”

As always, Karma shamelessly set off the various painful triggers in their memory without care. All of them collectively winced at the recollection of another time they’d restrained a tentacular life-form. “You’re not very sensitive, you know.” Kaede told him, with moderate disapproval, as she opened the door to enclosure D and set hers inside. She learned from Nagisa’s experience and shut the door before it could get its bearings.

“I’m sure we’re all capable of handling it.” Karma smiled, in that sly way of his, as he proceeded into enclosure C. “And, after all, we’re working to fix what happened then, aren’t we?” Everyone held quiet for a few moments as he set his charge down, stepping out and closing the door.

“…Hopefully.” Nagisa said, softly.

**Author's Note:**

> Notes: so I’ve had this written for like a year, but never published it. It’s my birthday today and wanted to get some writing out, so here it is. It will likely not update very soon, but hopefully you enjoy it as it is for now. There’s not enough non-pairing fanfiction for this fandom, imo.


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